I Would Rather That it Was Just Blue Skin Instead
by Lucillia
Summary: The Incredible Nightcrawler encounters some of the dangers endemic to being a fur covered individual that works in a school full of children and people who may as well be children.
1. Infestations

Kurt practically clawed at his back with both arms and his tail as he rode the elevator down to the basement infirmary. There were times when he wished he could roll around scratching on the floor like a dog.

When he reached the infirmary, he barely noted that Jean Grey was wearing a biohazard containment suit as he was more concerned with the itching that was coming from...just about everywhere.

"This..."

Kurt clamped down on a string of curses that would leave him praying for forgiveness until doomsday in order to atone for as he pulled off the spiked accessory that was concealing a smaller, thinner, white collar underneath which he then pulled off and threw into the far reaches of the infirmary.

"This _thing_ isn't working!"

Technically it was working. His neck was the only place on him that didn't itch. But, on the whole, it was completely useless.

"Well Kurt," Jean said, trying to sound cheerful as she arranged several items on a tray. "I've got good news, and bad news."

"What's the good news?" Kurt asked as he hopped up onto the examination table.

"It's not fleas." Jean replied.

"What's the bad news?" the amazing Nightcrawler asked as he noticed his left leg creeping up towards his shoulder and quickly lowered it.

"It's lice." Jean said as she set a tray with several boxes of NIX and a steel comb down next to him and hurriedly backed away.

Kurt quickly clamped his jaws shut tight because, he knew that if he didn't, the next word out of his mouth was going to be "Scheiße!".


	2. Chewing Gum

"The peanut butter isn't working, I'm going to have to get the scissors."

"Can't we please just try the ice again?"

"How the heck did you even manage to get chewing gum on the middle of your back anyway?"

"I don't know!"


	3. Someone Else For a Change

Kurt watched as Hank McCoy scrubbed at his wrists. Eventually a dried green clump began to crumble off of Beast's Arm as the water in the men's room sink doused it and worked its magic.

"Damn playdough." Beast grumbled.

Kurt smiled, glad it wasn't him for once.


	4. Cat Brushes

"It's blue."

Kurt's ear twitched, but he otherwise ignored the comment.

"Why couldn't they have sent one of the normal looking ones instead?"

His being strange looking was kind of the point. He personally didn't entirely agree with this little publicity stunt that was meant to show that strange looking Mutants could be trusted around children. Mutants, strange looking or otherwise, were as trustworthy or as untrustworthy as the rest of the human population and should be treated accordingly.

He'd been sent because he was strange looking and had experience dealing with both children and public relations thanks to his time in the circus.

"They're just trying to provoke us by sending something that looks like a demon. Don't react, it's what they want."

Kurt grabbed the book he was going to read during his volunteer shift at the daycare that had allowed this little publicity stunt to happen on their grounds and walked inside ignoring the comments and the glares from the parents and the general public who were crowded around. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something to go wrong so they could blast it over every medium of the media ad nauseum. There were no worries on the grounds of the book at least. The Professor had previously selected something relatively bland, apolitical and non-religious that kids were supposedly nuts about, or had been a generation ago.

Eventually, he reached the main playroom of the daycare where people were trying to do the impossible and create order in the chaos caused by close to thirty children between the ages of two and five as they struggled to get all of the children to sit still and be quiet so the "special guest" could read to them.

"Kitty!" a small voice shrieked as something latched onto Kurt's leg, nearly triggering a reflexive teleportation.

Oh great, it was one of _those_ children. The ones who seemed to think he was a giant cat or two-legged dog. Or worse, a mutated monkey.

As it turned out, it wasn't _one_ of those children. The child's shriek of "Kitty" was the cue that all of the other children had been waiting for, and moments after the first cry of "Kitty", The Amazing Nightcrawler, survivor of a hundred battles, was nearly dragged under a deluge of toddlers.

Kurt never got the chance to read the book. He was too busy spending the next two hours keeping small sticky hands away from anything that might be considered inappropriate, gently removing his tail from the hands of youngsters who managed to catch it while he was distracted, and avoiding a cat brush that one of the children had gotten from somewhere. Likely one of the parents who had stopped protesting his presence in order to go "Awww" and start taking pictures of their offspring.

As this was happening, Kurt wondered why it was always him.

Beast never had this problem.


	5. Wolverine's Claws

Kurt snickered. It had been Scott's idea, but it'd had a good deal of merit and he did enjoy a good prank. Pretending to be a touch more friendly than normal due to a very wee bit of drink which Logan would most assuredly smell on him, Kurt went up to Wolverine and patted him on the back as he greeted him in the hallway, being careful to not look back to make sure the deed was done.

Going up the hall, he rounded a corner, popped himself to the end of that corridor, then turned and popped himself to the end of the corridor, then turned and popped himself to the end of that corridor, ending up in the corridor he'd started in, well behind he of the pointy hair. The deed, it would seem, was done and done well.

Careful not to laugh and give himself away to he of the pointy hair, sharp sense of smell, and preternatural hearing, he popped himself well away from the scene of the crime before Wolverine noticed the stapler that had been glued to his back.

Six hours later, Wolverine smirked as he watched Kurt Wagner down an evening glass of warm milk, sleepily drag himself to his room, and then collapse onto his bed, not even bothering to undress. Success.

Waiting a few more minutes for the Incredible Nightcrawler to be well and truly out, Wolverine stalked into the room, checked the blue-furred mutant's breathing, and then stripped the German mutant of everything but his underclothing.

It would seem the answer to the eternal question was briefs. Tighty whities in fact.

Once Kurt was stripped, Wolverine applied liberal amounts of shaving cream to the blue mutant's body. With a Snikt, Wolverine's Adamantium claws extended and he of the pointy hair and the cheap cigars grabbed one of Kurt's legs and set to work...

* * *

Kurt awoke to the morning sun shining into his eyes. For some strange reason, he was absolutely freezing and everything felt really, really, strange for some reason he could not fathom.

With a tired groan because he still felt completely exhausted, Kurt started getting up, blinking sleepily as he did so. As his brain began to boot, he noticed that he kept spotting something very, very strange between eyeblinks. Something very pale white with a faint bluish tinge to it kept popping into his vision.

His mind began to process and resolve the image. It was an arm. An arm that terminated in a hand with only three digits. An arm that looked so utterly wrong for a reason that took him nearly ten seconds to process.

When he finally processed the answer to the mystery, it had explained why he was freezing cold and everything had felt strange.

Someone had shaved his entire body while he was asleep.


	6. Friday Night With Immature Coworkers

Kurt groaned as he awoke, wondering why he was sleeping on the floor in Storm's room of all places. While the fact that he'd awoken on hardwood which he'd likely been awkwardly positioned on for hours, if the sunlight that was pouring through Storm's West facing window stabbing at the insides of his eyeballs was any indication, that was not the reason behind his pained moaning. Not only did he have a headache, but there was a heavily pervasive chemical smell surrounding him that badly stung his eyes - which he closed in self defense - and his nose and exacerbated things.

Popping over to his bathroom so the students couldn't see him in this state, he hurriedly got into the shower and turned on the water by feel and started washing himself. Eventually, thanks to the fact he'd neglected to turn on the bathroom light and the water that washed away a good deal of the chemical stench, he felt it safe to open his poor, abused eyes.

What he could see in the slightly muted light coming in through the frosted bathroom window didn't make sense at first. His brain, which wasn't functioning at peak efficiency, failed to process it for any number of seconds . Finally realization began to dawn. The shock, anger, and utter mortification began to follow after, languidly joining the realization at their own pace.

There were yellow lines of varying thicknesses all over his body. About the only place on him that hadn't been decorated in swirls, whooshes and geometric patterns was his...

Tracing his hand over one of the designs that had been _bleached_ into his fur, Kurt began to plot his revenge.


End file.
